


Common Ground

by ArcadianMaggie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Ratings: R, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-09
Updated: 2011-03-09
Packaged: 2017-11-06 08:21:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcadianMaggie/pseuds/ArcadianMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Malfoys have always hated the Potters, and the Potters have always hated the Malfoys. At least that's what Scorpius Malfoy always thought until he caught his father kissing Mr. Potter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Common Ground

**Author's Note:**

> A little next gen birthday fun for rmhale. Special thanks to otta_ff for the beta and to conversedcullen for the Britpick.

Scorpius wasn’t sure what woke him up. He was disoriented as he struggled to sit, confused about where he was. This wasn’t his bed. He heard a thump as he shifted upright, blinking to try and make out the details of the room in the low light. Casting a _lumos_ , he saw he was in the sitting room off his bedroom, the thump the sound of the book he had been reading falling to the floor. He had been so engrossed he had read straight through dinner and far into the night. It must be past eleven.

His neck was cramped from the awkward angle he had fallen asleep in the chair, and his stomach ached with that hollow hungry feeling. Maybe he’d go to the kitchens for something to eat. As he walked down the corridor leading to his private sleeping chambers, he paused, hearing voices in the hallway beyond.

There was low laughter and soft murmurs. Scorpius quietly peered around the corner, then jerked his head back in shock. Was that…? Could that possibly be who he thought it was? Again he moved his head to watch the two figures, so absorbed in each other they had no idea he was there, just feet away. His father was kissing Harry Potter! Or rather, Harry Potter was kissing his father. His father’s head was thrown back and Mr. Potter’s mouth was on his neck, licking and sucking, their bodies pressed against each other while his father gasped and made little noises no child should ever have to hear a parent make.

Then their hands were in each other’s hair as they pressed their foreheads together, catching their breath. Scorpius gasped at the look on his father’s face. His features were soft, not set in the familiar proud aristocratic sneer it usually wore whenever Mr. Potter’s name had been mentioned in the past. No, he looked positively _adoring_ at Mr. Potter. Scorpius had never seen that expression on his father’s face before. Yes, he had gazed at his son with love and pride; he had looked at his mother with fond affection, but never, in his entire life, had Scorpius ever seen Draco Malfoy stare at anything with the rapt adoration he was focusing on Mr. Potter. How was this even possible? Maybe he was still asleep and this was some bizarre dream.

He watched as his father’s thumb tenderly stroked Mr. Potter’s cheek before he leaned in to kiss him gently on the lips. The he took his hand and tugged him towards his suite, more soft laughter and warnings to be quiet lingering in the hall long after they were out of sight.

Scorpius slid down the wall, still in shock. His father and _Mr. Potter_. He still wasn’t sure he believed it, but the persistent hunger in his belly was reminder enough that he was, indeed, actually awake.

He picked at the food the house elves had prepared, ignoring their fussing. It was no surprise to him that his father took men to his bed. It wasn’t something they ever talked about, but he had been aware of it for years. His mother had always turned a blind eye to his father’s… indiscretions, as was not uncommon in pureblood families where marriages were more likely to be about alliances and heirs than love and devotion. His parents had always been fond of each other and seemed to enjoy a genuine friendship, but Scorpius hadn’t been surprised in the slightest when they had separated shortly after he started at Hogwarts. A few years later, they had made things final and divorced.

No, his shock didn’t stem from his father taking a man to his bed; the source of his shock was that the man was Harry Potter, a name he had never once heard his father utter without the backing of anger or resentment or contempt.

Scorpius studied his father carefully the following morning at breakfast. He looked tired—Scorpius didn’t want to think about why for even a second—but he radiated contentment. Happiness. Every so often he’d pause with his fork halfway to his mouth, his eyes would become unfocused, and his lips would curve up, just the tiniest bit, into a small secret smile.

A week before Scorpius was to return to Hogwarts, his father informed him they would be having a guest for dinner.

“Who?” Scorpius asked, although he already suspected the answer.

“Harry Potter,” his father answered, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. “We’ve…” he hesitated, “We’ve been seeing each other.”

“But I thought you hated each other,” Scorpius blurted out.

“I’ve never hated Harry.”

Harry. That was new. It had always been Potter in the past. Scorpius was confused.

“If you say so.”

“I do say so. Yes, we were rivals back in our school days, and then the war…” Scorpius winced at the pained expression on his father’s face. He hated being reminded of those dark days and had worked hard to move forward, rising above prejudice and outright hostility to bring respectability once more to the Malfoy name, using his skills at potions to create a thriving business, one whose wares were in demand from the Ministry and healers alike.

Draco cleared his throat. “Let’s just say that we’ve put the past behind us and cleared up a number of misunderstandings.”

“All right.” It would take some time before Scorpius could process this sea change.

“I want Harry to feel welcome here. Please give him the courtesy due all our guests at the Manor.”

Scorpius was stunned. This must be very important to his father for him to use the word please.

“Yes, Sir,” he replied, and watched as his father’s shoulders relaxed the smallest amount.

Dinner was… uncomfortable. Mr. Potter was pleasant enough and asked Scorpius about Hogwarts, his areas of interest, what books he was reading. His father, however, was jumpy and tense. Scorpius wasn’t sure he had ever seen his father less in control of his emotions. Mr. Potter noticed too, and reached over to lay a hand on top of Draco’s, squeezing gently. At his touch, his father visibly relaxed and sent Mr. Potter another of those smiles, the kind that said, _I adore you_ and _I’m completely besotted with you_ , before his eyes darted to Scorpius who was staring at him incredulously and he jerked his hand back to his lap. Mr. Potter didn’t seem the least bit upset. He withdrew his hand from where it lay on the table and continued to eat, engaging Scorpius in conversation again.

*****

Scorpius couldn’t stop staring at Albus. What did he think about their fathers’ relationship? Did he even know? Watching Albus Potter was not a new pastime. From his very first day at Hogwarts, the boy had become a fixed point on his radar. Standing on Platform 9 ¾, he had overheard Mr. Weasley joking to his daughter Rose that she was to try and beat him at every test and make sure not to get too friendly. When her cousin Albus joined her, and Scorpius caught them whispering and staring at him, his pride had been pricked. He vowed he would prove he was just as good as they were. Better even.

Yes, the war was long over, but he had heard the whispers. He had watched his father struggle for acceptance in Wizarding society. He had seen the treatment his father had received from those who thought that one who bore the Dark Mark should not be allowed outside the walls of Azkaban. He knew Mr. Weasley disliked his father and that Mr. Potter was Mr. Weasley’s closest friend. So when Rose Weasley and Albus Potter stood on the platform whispering and staring, he decided he didn’t care if Mr. Weasley was joking; he was not going to let Rose beat him, and he’d be more than happy to have her never get too close. He expanded his determination to include Albus, when he quickly realized that Rose and her cousin were practically inseparable.

The three of them had become fierce competitors in the classroom. Rose had been sorted into Gryffindor, like her parents before her. He, of course, was in Slytherin. Albus, surprisingly, was a Ravenclaw, although once he observed the boy for a while, it seemed an apt choice. He was quiet and studious, and seemed nothing like his older outgoing brother. The other two never spoke to Scorpius directly, but he knew they were just as aware of him as he was of them. Whenever he took the top mark, Rose could be seen studying late in the library, ignoring her friends’ pleas to take a break. Albus would grow even quieter and he’d get that crease between his eyes, the one that always made him appear deep in concentration.

When Albus or Rose took the top mark, Scorpius would raise his chin just a tiny bit higher and not meet their eyes, as if he wasn’t even aware of their existence. He pretended not to see the congratulatory hugs they gave one another and absolutely did not feel a pang of jealously that he had no one with whom to share his own triumphs. He was respected well enough in his house, and the other students certainly appreciated the points he earned for Slytherin, but he wasn’t particularly close to anyone; most of the others were reluctant to align themselves too closely with the grandson of a notorious Death Eater. The following morning he might be seen in the Great Hall at breakfast, his posture wilted and his eyes bleary from staying up long into the night, studying under his covers in the Slytherin dorms.

Now as he stared at Albus, he wondered how it would be to regard him as something other than a rival or his hated enemy. How was he supposed to think of him now that everything had changed? Were they expected to become friends? Was he supposed to just somehow forget the tone of voice his father had used for years when uttering the name Potter? Was he supposed forget that the Malfoys had always hated the Potters and the Potters had always hated the Malfoys? His father now denied it, but that was the way it had always been.

Scorpius was so deep in thought he hadn’t even noticed that Albus Potter was staring right back. And not only staring, but offering a small smile. Scorpius reared back his head in surprise, his face registering shock. This wasn’t the way they did things. He tore his gaze from Albus’ and feigned absorption in the book on his desk until he could regain his composure. When he dared a glance back up, peering out from the curtain of his silver blond hair, he saw Albus concentrating just as hard on his own books, a deep pink blush coloring his cheeks.

That smile was all Scorpius could think about over the next few days. What did it mean? Did it mean Albus wanted to set aside their common enmity for their fathers’ sakes? He puzzled over that smile, examined it from every angle he could, obsessed, some might say. Yet he was unable to come to a satisfactory conclusion about what it had meant.

To solve the mystery, Scorpius took to studying Albus even closer. He tried to be objective, to think of him as someone he had just met, to set aside all his previously conceived notions about the boy.

The first thing he noticed is that while he was studying Albus, Albus appeared to be studying him right back. Whereas before they had been circumspect in their rivalry, never acknowledging it directly, now Albus would hold his eye in frank appraisal. Occasionally, Scorpius would see that familiar crease on his brow, the one that meant he was deep in thought. Sometimes, as they held each other’s gazes, Albus’ cheeks would flush, as they had when Scorpius had first caught him smiling, but the smile itself never made a re-appearance.

He watched Albus’ interactions with the other members of his house. Scorpius had always considered the boy stuck-up and aloof, never speaking to many aside from a few close friends, and of course, his cousin Rose. The more he studied him, the more he began to think he had been wrong. It wasn’t arrogance that had him keeping to himself so much; Albus Potter was painfully shy.

A similar crease to the one that so often decorated Albus’ brow appeared on Scorpius’ own face. He wondered what else he had gotten wrong. As he stared at Albus in puzzlement, the other boy looked up and caught his gaze again. They were standing closer to each other than was usual, crowding around a plant in the greenhouse while being lectured in Herbology. As their eyes remain locked on the other, that pink tint appeared on Albus’ cheeks once more. Scorpius marveled at how that splash of color made the irises of the other boy’s eyes stand out vividly; they were so _green_. He felt a funny twisting in his stomach as he stared, and when his own cheeks began to heat up, he tore his eyes away, unsettled.

As he lay in bed that night, he replayed that moment over and over in his head, remembering details he hadn’t focused on earlier in the day. While he had stared into those green green irises, they had been looking eye to eye. Scorpius had always thought of Albus as a scrawny little thing, all wild black hair and big eyes, but, he realized, Albus must be almost as tall as himself. He hadn’t looked scrawny either; his shoulders had started to broaden and the column of his neck was lean and strong. That funny twisting in his stomach returned and Scorpius was dismayed to realize it was accompanied by the hardening of his prick.

Well, he was a teenager. It didn’t mean anything that his prick was getting hard while he was thinking about Albus Potter and his big green eyes, thinking about his strong shoulders and beautiful neck. Scorpius shifted his hips to pull his pants down and free his erection. He lay back and closed his eyes while he stroked himself. It didn’t mean anything that he thought about putting his mouth on that column of skin, didn’t mean anything that he wondered if the rest of Albus was as fit as he suspected. And it absolutely didn’t mean anything that he was thinking about Albus’ mouth, with its plump pink lips, and Albus’ amazing, expressive big green eyes when he came all over his stomach.

No, it didn’t mean anything at all.

*****

A few months later, Scorpius watched as his father’s owl swooped into the Great Hall and landed next to him with a message tied to its foot. His face snapped up the second he finished reading. Unsurprisingly, Albus was staring at him from across the room. He must have already been aware of the contents of the letter.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_I hope your studies are continuing to go well. There is something I must discuss with you regarding the Christmas holidays. I’ve invited Harry Potter and his son, Albus Severus, to stay with us at the Manor. His other two children will be vacationing with their mother in France. As you are already aware, Harry and I have become very close over the past several months. He has concerns about how his children are handling his new relationship, particularly as his divorce from their mother was quite difficult for them. We’re both cognizant of the fact that you and Albus have never been on friendly terms, but we hope that if you’re able to spend time together away from Hogwarts, you will find some common ground. I hope this letter is sufficient enough for you to comprehend the level of importance this carries for me, but I’ve spoken to the Headmaster and arranged a firecall for this evening, so we may speak directly. I ask that you please give this matter your due consideration. I remain,_

_Your loving Father_

Scorpius’ stomach had done a flip as he read the letter and realized that Albus would be staying _in his home_ over the holiday. The two of them would be expected to talk, and interact, and become friends. It was everything he dreamed of and feared all at once.

Since that time he had first come on his belly thinking about Albus Potter, he had repeated his actions nightly until it had become almost a ritual. All day long he watched the black haired boy, and every evening, alone in his bed, he replayed those images over and over, fantasizing in greater and greater detail about the two of them together.

He had long since given up his foolish denial that it didn’t mean anything at all. The truth was, he was completely obsessed with Albus Potter. Once he had gotten past their schoolboy rivalry, and set aside their mutual enmity, he had been able to finally see the boy as he truly was: brilliant, and gorgeous, and altogether wonderful. And now the object of his attentions would be spending days and days with him in close proximity. They’d be _living_ together. Close enough to speak to. To touch. A thrill went through Scorpius’ entire body at the thought.

As he stared across the room at Albus, he took a leap before he could talk himself out of it, and risked a small smile in the other boy’s direction. Albus’ cheeks immediately turned pink and he tore his eyes away to stare down at his plate. Scorpius’ stomach twisted again, but it was a different sort of twist this time as he wondered if he had ruined everything already by not returning the smile Albus had offered so long ago at the beginning of term. He wondered if Albus would even _like_ him after he got to know him. His heart sunk at the thought.

But if there was anything Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was not, it was a quitter. He vowed then and there that he would do whatever it took to win another smile from Albus in return.

*****

“Welcome to our home,” Draco said as he greeted Mr. Potter and Albus. Scorpius stood next to his father and stepped forward when Draco nudged him.

“Yes, welcome, Sir,” he said, holding out his hand for Mr. Potter’s once the house elves had relieved their guests of their coats.

“It’s nice to see you again, Scorpius,” Mr. Potter said, shaking his hand in a firm grip. “And you know my son, Albus, of course,” he added, nudging Albus in front of him in much the same manner his own father had done. “Yes Sir. Welcome to the Manor, Albus,” Scorpius said, releasing Mr. Potter’s hand and holding it out to the other boy. His stomach was a mass of nerves and he hoped he wasn’t sweating too badly.

“Thank you,” Albus whispered as he took Scorpius’ hand in his own, his cheeks flushing when their palms met. Scorpius was exhilarated and terrified as he touched Albus’ skin for the first time. He wondered if Albus felt any significance in the moment.

"Scorpius, why don’t you show Albus where he’ll be staying while I get Harry settled,” Draco suggested.

Scorpius nodded and said, “Follow me” as he led the way to the rooms that had been prepared for the boy.

Neither of them spoke as they walked in awkward silence. Scorpius knew the onus was on him as the host to make his guest feel comfortable, but no matter how hard he wracked his brain for something to say, he couldn’t come up with anything that didn’t seem completely inane. He was relieved when they finally reached the guest suite.

“Here we are,” Scorpius said, holding open the door for Albus.

Albus looked around, examining the space. The floors were covered in a luxurious carpet and the bedding was a deep blue. His belongings had already been placed next to the bed by the house elves.

“It’s really nice,” Albus said. “Thanks.”

Scorpius nodded. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to think of something to say.

“Do you, um… do you want a tour of the Manor?” he asked.

Albus wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Um, not right now, thank you. I think I’d just like to lie down and read for a while if you don’t mind.”

Scorpius felt a wave of discouragement. Why should Albus want to spend time with him? Just because he was obsessed didn’t mean the other boy felt the same. It seemed clear he was anxious to be rid of Scorpius.

“All right. I’ll, um, see you at dinner then?”

“All right.”

Dinner was even more uncomfortable than the last time Mr. Potter had been there. Scorpius had to bear his father’s disappointed gaze when he was asked what they had done all afternoon. He knew he was supposed to be befriending Albus, but how could he, when Albus didn’t even want to be in the same room with him?

“Scorpius, you should show Albus the library tomorrow if more reading is on your agenda, although I would think you two boys could find plenty of other things to do,” Draco suggested, a hint of censure in his voice.

“Yes Sir,” Scorpius murmured, eyes downcast.

Scorpius felt agitated and frustrated as he lay in bed that evening. Albus had retired to his room immediately after dinner, so he had been unable to engage him in conversation once again. What an incredible opportunity he had been handed to get close to Albus, yet he had bollocked things up the very first day. Scorpius would have loved to have a good hard wank to release some of his tension, but with Albus just down the hall, it felt too weird. Instead, he endured a restless night, tossing and turning, wondering how he could get Albus to get to know him, and more importantly, how he could get Albus to _like_ him.

After breakfast the next morning, Scorpius took Draco’s suggestion and invited Albus to view the library. Their collection was impressive, full of rare texts that had been accumulated over generations. As Albus’ eyes fell on the room, they lit up brightly and he turned to Scorpius with a radiant smile on his face. “This is brilliant,” he breathed in awe.

Scorpius’ belly filled with warmth and he couldn’t stop his own face from forming an answering smile. If he had known this was the reaction he’d get, he’d have dragged Albus here yesterday. He was thrilled to have elicited such a positive reaction.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, watching with approval as Albus walked over to the shelves and scanned the titles. Scorpius marveled at how fantastic he looked with his eyes shining, lips parted, mouthing the titles to himself, his tongue occasionally peeking out to dampen his lips. He loved the unobstructed view of his arse, Albus’ attention so riveted that Scorpius could stare to his heart’s content.

After an hour or two, Scorpius was less pleased at Albus’ reaction to the Malfoy’s collection. Eventually, he had pulled a few books from the shelves and curled up in one of the library’s overstuffed chairs and hadn’t moved since. Aside from that initial interaction, Albus had seemed to forget that Scorpius even existed. He sighed. The boy was a Ravenclaw through and through.

The situation improved slightly after lunch when Albus agreed to let Scorpius finally give him a tour of the Manor. By the end of the tour, they were talking a little more comfortably and Scorpius felt hopeful. Of course they hadn’t spoken about anything personal at all, only the Manor itself, but it was a start. At dinner that evening, Scorpius was relieved to be able to give his father a slightly more favorable report about their day’s interactions. He didn’t miss the smile on his father’s face or the look Draco and Mr. Potter exchanged.

Over the next few days, they fell into a similar routine. Albus would spend the time before lunch ensconced in the library. In the afternoon Scorpius would show him more of the Manor and its grounds—the gardens, the dungeons, the practice pitch.

“We should go flying tomorrow,” Scorpius suggested, hoping Albus would agree. “The weather is supposed to be mild.”

“I didn’t bring my broom.”

“That’s okay. We’ll find one for you to use. What do you say?”

“All right. I’d like that.”

Scorpius’ stomach did a little flip when Albus’ big green eyes looked directly into his as he answered with a smile.

Scorpius was a mass of energy the following morning. He wasn’t sure he could wait until after lunch. On his broom he was in his element. He felt at ease… powerful… free. He hoped once he and Albus were up in the air on their brooms, everything would change. Albus might finally see him as something more than the Slytherin rival he competed against in school.

“Here,” Scorpius said, handing Albus a broom.

Albus’ hands remained at his sides. “That’s your broom.”

Scorpius was taken aback, wondering how Albus could possibly know that.

“Yes, I know. I want you to use it. You’re my guest.” He was also secretly thrilled at the idea of Albus on his broom.

“I can’t take your broom. I’ll use the other,” he said reaching for it.

Scorpius pulled it back. “No, I want you to use mine. I insist.”

Albus forehead creased as he started at Scorpius. After a moment he said, “All right. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Scorpius reached in the pocket of his robes and pulled out a snitch, his eyes alight with excitement. “Have you ever played Seeker-to-Seeker?” he asked.

Albus smiled. “Yeah. I’ve played with my brother, and of course with my dad growing up.”

“Best out of three?”

“You’re on.”

Scorpius released the snitch and they were off. It was exhilarating flying against Albus. They were well matched in skill and speed, something that surprised Scorpius, since he was one of the school’s star Quidditch players and Albus wasn’t even on the Ravenclaw team. He was so caught up in the game that he completely forgot he was trying to impress the other boy. Scorpius won the first game. Albus took the second. When Albus’ hand closed around the snitch on their third game, just inches out Scorpius reach, he held it aloft with a joyful whoop.

They both flew to the ground, smiles splitting their faces.

“You’re brilliant on a broom,” Scorpius exclaimed enthusiastically, clapping Albus on the shoulder in congratulations. “Why haven’t you tried out for your team?”

“Thanks,” Albus replied, a blush forming on his cheeks. “I’m sure I only won because you let me have the better broom.”

“Nonsense. You’re a natural. You should be playing Seeker for Ravenclaw.”

“No. I don’t think so. I’m not very competitive.”

Scorpius snorted.

Albus’ blush deepened. “I mean, in athletics. School work is different.”

“I’d love to go up against you in a real match.”

“I really don’t think it’s for me,” Albus insisted. “Besides,” he continued in a breathy voice, taking a small step closer, his big green eyes locked on Scorpius’, “I… I like to watch.”

Scorpius felt burning hot all of a sudden; his insides twisted about in the most alarming and dreadful and wonderful way. Albus was so close. So incredibly close. Scorpius thought his heart would hammer out of his chest. He watched as Albus’ eyes dropped to his mouth, watched as Albus leaned in closer, and then Albus was kissing him. Albus was _kissing_ him. And it was brilliant. He was so shocked, his mind whirling in a thousand different directions at once, that he couldn’t even react.

Then Albus was pulling away, stumbling backward in horror and embarrassment, a look of pure panic on his face. He was on his broom before Scorpius could even process what had happened, speeding away as if being chased by fiendfyre.

Scorpius was unable to locate Albus when he returned to the Manor. He paced in his room, thinking about _the kiss_. He reached his hand up to his face and touched his lips with his fingertips, remembering the feel of Albus’ lips on his. What did it mean? Could it mean what he hoped it meant? He had to talk to Albus.

He waited impatiently until dinner time then rushed to the dining room, anxious to see the other boy. He was filled with dismay when he saw that neither Albus nor Mr. Potter were there, only his father, pacing restlessly by the table.

“Where are the Potters?”

“They’re leaving,” Draco said, his voice filled with agitation. He was running his hand through his hair, a gesture familiar to Scorpius when his father was very upset. “Harry said that Albus is beside himself, and he’s not sure why. But Albus is insisting on leaving, and Harry thinks it might perhaps be best if they spent the remainder of their holiday at home.”

“What? No!” Scorpius replied in alarm. “They can’t leave.”

“Did something happen today?” his father asked, knowing that something obviously must have.

“No! Well, yes,” he corrected, “but that’s why he has to stay. You can’t let them leave, Father.”

“I’m not sure I can stop them.”

“I need to talk to Albus.”

“Harry said he doesn’t want to speak to anyone.”

“What? No, he has to.” Scorpius couldn’t let things end like this. They had come so far. Things had been going so well. He was so close… He looked again at his father and realized how deeply upset Draco was. Guilt piled on top of all the other myriad of emotion he was feeling. He had been so happy lately. Scorpius liked seeing him that way. He needed to fix this. He couldn’t completely ruin his father’s Christmas too.

He raced through the Manor to the guest suites and burst into Albus’ room. Mr. Potter was sitting with his son on the edge of the bed. They both looked up in surprise as Scorpius entered the room.

“I need to talk to Albus,” he insisted.

Albus looked beseechingly at his father, and Scorpius face fell and pain twisted in his gut when he heard him say, “I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Please,” Scorpius begged. “Albus?”

Harry looked over at Albus, making his own assessment of the situation. He leaned in to speak softly in Albus’ ear then stood up, leaving his son alone on the bed, his head down and his hands gripped tightly together.

“I’m going to go speak with your father,” Mr. Potter said, addressing Scorpius. “Just come and find us when you two are finished here.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Scorpius whispered as he passed on the way out.

Now that Scorpius was alone in the room with Albus, he wasn’t sure what to say.

As the silence lengthened and the tension in the room rose unbearably, Scorpius finally asked, “Why are you leaving?”

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” Albus whispered. He wouldn’t look up.

“Why not?”

“I just don’t.”

“But you kissed me,” Scorpius blurted out.

Albus’ head whipped up and a deep blush spread across his face.

He swallowed hard before speaking. “I’m sorry about that.”

“What? Why are you sorry?” Scorpius asked in dismay. This wasn’t going right at all. He wasn’t supposed to be sorry.

“It was obvious you didn’t like it. I thought…” he paused. “I don’t know what I thought. It’s just there were times when I was sure…”

“I did like it,” Scorpius interrupted.

“What?” Albus asked confused.

“I liked it. I liked it when you kissed me.”

“But… but you just stood there.”

Now Scorpius blushed. “Yes, well, I was surprised.”

They were silent, staring at each other. After a few moments Albus asked, “But… you liked it?”

“Yes,” Scorpius answered. “If…” he hesitated.

“If?” Albus prompted.

“If you did it again, I’d kiss you back,” he whispered. Scorpius walked over to the bed and sat down next to Albus. He moved cautiously, as if afraid that one unexpected move would cause the other boy to bolt.

Albus searched his face. Scorpius could hardly breathe, waiting to see what he would decide.

His heart leapt as Albus leaned toward him and placed his lips against his own. It was just as brilliant as the first time, only this time he was prepared and not too shocked to respond. And respond he did, groaning into Albus’ mouth as their tongues found each other. Jolts of pleasure shot through him with each slip and slide. When Albus’ hands reached for him and buried themselves in his hair, the sensation went straight to his prick.

He sunk his own fingers into the other boy’s dark locks, marveling at how soft they were, thick and silky and perfect. Then they were falling back on the bed, mouths tasting and sucking, tongues plunging and exploring. He felt Albus’ leg hitching over his own, pulling his body closer and that was brilliant too. He gasped when Albus’ groin pressed forward, his hard prick rubbing directly against his own.

They writhed and bucked frantically, gasping and sighing, tugging and pulling. All those nights Scorpius had fantasized about being together were nothing compared to the reality of having Albus’ strong body moving against him. He could only imagine how amazing it would be when they weren’t both fully clothed. He pushed the other boy over on his back and climbed directly on top of him, straddling his hips and pushing his cock forcefully into the other’s, gyrating his hips in circles until they were both panting and moaning.

He felt Albus’ grip on his hair tighten painfully, then his body was arching up underneath him and Albus was crying out harsh gasps of ecstasy into his mouth as he came. Scorpius was so overcome by the sounds that his own pleasure catapulted through him; he buried his face against Albus’ beautiful neck grunting and groaning as his cock pulsed his release.

“That was brilliant,” he gasped as soon as he could catch his breath.

They lay facing each other on the bed after they had cleaned up. Scorpius brushed a lock of Albus’ inky hair away from his face, trailing his fingers over his cheek, basking in the boy’s soft smile.

“I thought you hated me,” Scorpius whispered.

“No. I’ve always been mad for you, ever since that first day at the train station.”

“Really? We were eleven!”

“Well, I guess Rose was the one who was mad for you back then. She always was precocious. But a few years later Rose gave up on you when she spied you staring at McMillan’s arse. That’s probably when I really began to take notice. I always wanted to be your friend, though.”

Scorpius still couldn’t get over how green Albus’ eyes were. He could get lost in them.

“I’m mad for you too, you know,” he whispered.

This time when Albus smiled Scorpius knew it was all for him.

“We should probably go find our fathers and tell them you’re staying,” Scorpius eventually suggested. “You are staying, right?”

“Of course,” Albus answered.

As they approached the dining room, Albus asked, “What do you think about all of this anyway? I mean, the two of them together?”

Scorpius thought for a moment. “He makes my father happy,” he answered. “I reckon it’s a good thing then. I like seeing him happy.”

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure at first, but I like seeing my dad happy too.”

The both froze as they turned the corner into the dining room. Then they moved so quickly they were bumping and stumbling into each other in their bid to escape. Once they were as far away from the dining room as they could possibly manage, they looked at each other, knowing that the blanched expression on the other’s face was a mirror of their own.

“Merlin’s Ghost,” Scorpius shuddered. “I don’t ever want to see them _that_ happy again."  


End file.
